A Storm on the Loose
by Titania Le Fey
Summary: The USPF turns to underhanded tactics to capture the world's most wanted criminal. After, Snake is being hauled into a processing facility when he turns on his captors and makes a break for freedom.
1. Who the Hell was in my bed?

Snake woke drowsy and he couldn't get his mind around what was going on. Christ, did he have a headache. Plissken strained to remember what had happened the night before but nothing came to mind. He brought his hands to his face attempting to brush away the haze but it only further aggravated the throbbing behind his temples. The fog that filled his mind just wouldn't shake.

The burning light shining in on his still closed eyelid didn't help matters. Whatever had happened last night, he swore he'd never do it again. Snake had never felt this bad in all his life.

"Morning."

Snake felt soft lips brush against his and the smell of intoxicating perfume. It was the kind of smell that went straight to the head. Whatever happened last night, Plissken wished he could remember it if it involved lips like these ones. Snake stole another kiss as she pulled away. "Where you going?"

"It was nice Hot Shot but I got to go. Such a shame." The voice was amazing like silk but Snake didn't hear anything after "Hot Shot". No one called him that anymore except…. Snake's eye flew open, straining against the oppressive sunlight and was filled with his nightmare. She was in a black uniform, the eagle blazing in white on her shoulder.

"SHIT!" Snake wasn't sure if he'd spoken but he was moving to get up. It was a blackbelly bitch! Of all the low, vile things. They'd paid a woman, one of their own, to seduce and drug him. The thought made him burn inside but the nausea from sitting up quenched that fire before it got going. Plissken forced down the sickness. He had to get dressed. He pulled on his shirt and pants still leaning on the bed. His boots were a pain in the ass to deal with in this state and Plissken found himself gagging from exertion.

Hastily, he clipped the holsters on and grabbed his jacket. Push, Snake. He mentally encouraged himself trying to overcome something that could only be described as the hangover from Hell. Hungover from what? Snake had no idea. Plissken's knees felt like rubber when he stood. They refused to hold his weight and he stumbled clinging to the wall for support.

"Too late big boy."

He glared as the bitch reached for the door handle. Snake wasn't one for hurting women but this one; he could imagine beating her to death with ease. The throbbing surged again and Snake clenched his teeth refusing to give into the queasiness. He wanted to run but nothing was working. Snake's vision blurred into a drug induced trail punctuated by someone pounding on his skull with a sledgehammer for the feeling behind his eyes. Sight wasn't needed to know what was coming. It sounded like water buffalo were stampeding down the hall outside toward the room.

Rushed and feeling trapped Plissken drew a revolver still holding on to maintain his balance. The first one came in and Snake took a shot. Nothing happened. Plissken looked at the gun confused before it dawned on him. The bitch had unloaded his guns. FUCK! He had to run now and he struggled with his unresponsive body. Turning to the window behind him seemed to run in slow motion while the black uniformed bastards were approaching fast. Instinct was burning a fever pitch and he jumped through the window to the fire escape beyond.

Plissken's head pounded with fury as he hit the iron work platform. It was too much to take but he had to move. Snake started to crawl toward the opening. Stairs… his mind pushed him toward that opening even if all he saw was white, throbbing haze. His hand reached for the stairs and groped empty space. He'd put too much of his weight into that motion and he floundered with his spinning head. Sirens screamed in the alley pushing his vision to a white blur so bright it burned his good eye as much as the bad one. Plissken wrestled to keep his balance but every movement seemed to make it worse as the swirl in his head turned into a vortex. It took hitting the ground for him to realize he was falling or had fallen.

Pain shot through his leg from the ankle mingling with the pounding in his temples. Snake was certain he'd broken something on the way down but his mind couldn't stay with one thought. Every time something cleared the pain swallowed it and even moving became impossible. He cursed the blackbellies and the booze because he could do nothing else at the moment. Internally, though he childe himself for falling for this kind of bullshit. They'd never let him live this one down. His eye rolled back and he felt his conscious slipping. Maybe he'd die now and forego Malloy taunting him about this lame capture. At least, he was getting some. It was the perfect comeback for that moment to come and he could just imagine the look of horror on his face when he asked for a cigarette after a line like that.


	2. A Storm on the Loose

He limped down the hall attempting to pretend it didn't feel like the bastards had broken his ankle. The ruse wasn't working and every step was like white fire in his leg. The pain seemed to burn inside the bone itself as the hall led on into infinity. Plissken felt as if he had been transversing the same hall for hours.

"This way."

The guard shoved him to the side with the butt of his rifle. In front of Plissken now stood his worst nightmare, stairs. There were hundreds of them winding down as far as his eye could see when he glanced over the rail. Plissken rushed to keep pace but exhaustion slowed him as did the spikes of pain scalding his bones.

At the landing after the fifth flight Snake had to stop. His hand found the rail and he lifted his wounded leg to relieve the pressure and pain. The ache had just abated when the steel rifle butt collided with the back of his head with enough force to send him stumbling toward the stairs. He nearly fell and would have had it not been for the seething fury that locked his fingers to the railing.

Snake spun around to see the same rifle, glistening with blood, heading straight for his face. Resentment fueled his movements and the pain slipped away into numbness as Plissken lunged forward. He rammed the metal cuffs into the guard's fingers sending the gun clattering down the stairs. The rest of the escort was still too stunned to react when Plissken shoved the cuffs' chain into the attacker's throat. The force of Snake's attack slammed him into the wall and the guard tugged helplessly at the cuffs.

"He's killi….."

The words were garbled as Snake ground the chain against his neck. Blood started to prickle up around the links and trickle down the skin.

The blackbelly pulled at the chain while his two companions tried to haul Plissken off of their fellow guard. Snake mule kicked one of the two men behind him and it was trailed by a snap and the satisfying thud of a body tumbling down metal stairs.

The Snake's animalistic eye returned its gaze to the man who had battered his head. The guard had nearly worked the chain away from his neck with his fingers. Plissken snarled and slammed his forehead square into the bridge of the guard's nose. The crack resounded in the empty stairwell as the hands fell away. Blood added a tapping sound to the chaos as it ran from the guard's broken nose over Plissken's arm and trickled like a dripping faucet to that steel below their feet.

A guard still wrestled to remove Plissken from his partner. He was unhindered and began ratcheting the chain back and forth against the gory skin. Blood flowed freely and was accompanied by panicked gasps. Snake dug in putting his weight and shoulder strength into the choking. The guard's lips were turning bluish as Plissken once more crushed the chain to the blackbellies throat.

The other guard finally got a firm grip on Plissken's shirt. The Snake would not be deterred. Succumbing to animal instinct brought on by the impending death of the man in his grasp Snake sunk his teeth into the offending fingers. He stumbled back from the bite freeing Plissken to resume his task. The Snake's one track mind applied more pressure until his own wrists felt the sting from the taunt cuffs. The man was no longer breathing. Plissken released him and ignored the thud as the lifeless body hit the stairs.

Snake turned on the remaining guard who was attempting to staunch the bleeding bite. He didn't even think or miss a beat before he tossed the guard over the rail to where ever bottom lay for these infernal stairs.

Once more returning to his victim he grabbed the keys and his gun. Motivated by adrenaline and the promise of freedom Snake forced himself to run up the stairs. Fumbling with the cuffs he made for the long hall. The cuffs were tossed aside with their keys as he hit the hall at a full run. With luck the swat van would have left and he would have a free shot at the streets. Pain burned in his leg so furiously that he stumbled. Before freedom Snake would have to make it to the end of the hall.


	3. We Thought We Had You

Snake hobbled to a stop in the silent hall. His arm found the wall and he leaned against it picking up his wounded ankle like a lame horse. The more he had bore weight on it the more the agony increased. Now halfway down the hallway the burn was excruciating and unbearable.

Snake glanced around waiting for the pain to subside enough to continue his journey to freedom. Ahead stood an open door, a few feeble steps and Plissken could see inside. A blackbelly sat at a computer with his back to the door. Snake could care less. It was the basket that was halfway between them on a table that his eye settled on.

They were his revolvers, no question, that lay in that low sided basket. Snake glanced down the hall and up the other end. He had to have his guns and there appeared to be nobody around to stop him from retrieving them. Snake forced his leg to carry him to the opposing wall. He risked a glance around the door frame to the room beyond. The man was still typing and unaware of the viper slithering into his room.

Plissken crawled to the table. Not only did this block the blackbelly's view but it gave his throbbing ankle a much needed rest. His hand snaked up over the table top. Quietly, gently Snake removed the basket and set it on the floor before him. Plissken threw a worried glance at the door as he holstered his revolvers. Hastily he collected the rest of his belongings. What he really needed was his ammunition but it was gone.

Snake took a gander at the room he was in until his eyes fell on the shelves on the other end. One of the shelves bore little green and yellow boxes, Remington ammunition boxes.

Returning the basket to the table Snake hesitantly glanced around. The man at the computer was still oblivious of Snake's presence. The Snake crawled between the shelving, stuffing his pockets, all of them, full of the boxes. Plissken was crawling toward the center of the room from his position between the shelves when he heard boot falls on the floor. He froze in place and began inching back into the darkness among the shelves.

"Send out an alert."

The voice was official and reflexively Snake held his breath.

"A patrol found Plissken's guards dead in stairwell F. He is presumed free and armed on the premises."

Snake frowned but continued listening intently. This mess was going to make escaping that much more difficult. He still wasn't breathing. The sound of metal chain came to his ears and the frown slowly turned to a satisfied smile.

"We found these in the hall."

Plissken knew what they had found. The voices were replaced by hurried footsteps and frantic typing. Peering through the shelves Plissken watched the second guard disappear into the hall.

His eye returned to the man at the computer. No typer, no alert. The Snake broke for the back of the chair, revolver drawn; he brought it down like a hammer on the back of the blackbelly's head. Pushing him from the chair Plissken observed the blinking cursor of the command line on the computer screen. Hastily he deleted it and replaced it with his own.

"Plissken apprehended in sector…" Snake glanced at the prison map on the wall. "…F" That would send them all into the holding facility. Nothing like prisoners awaiting execution to cause a distraction. Snake continued typing as his free hand flipped through the command book he pulled from the drawer, His fingers finally traced out the string of numbers he sought. They were the lock codes and he set them all for unlock before hitting enter. Every prisoner in sector F was now on the loose and Snake was already on his feet to head the other direction.

He laid low in the room until the running footsteps outside the door fell silent. Plissken crept into the hall scanning the length of it before moving down the corridor. It was clear and the pain had been alleviated somewhat by resting. Once more he started running with all of his might. He hit the door and found himself in the darkened lot.

Searchlights cruised the empty surface between the building and the gate. Plissken knew better then to head for the fence. All the facility fences were set with electric and alarms. Avoiding the lights Snake made his way to the lone vehicle parked several meters from the gate and guard shack. Four fully armed and armored blackbellies stood at the opening separating Plissken from his freedom.

Snake turned his back resting against the humvee's door. The hummer wasn't much use for his escape. It was more a death trap. The new vehicles were all fitted with tracers and he had seen its throbbing red beacon on the dash. His mind raced as he stood there staring at the door he had exited. He could imagine at any moment a hoard of enemies would rush from it. He needed to come up with something fast. Plissken did have one idea but it was a long shot.

Snake waited flush against the hummer with a gun drawn for the nearest searchlight to face him. Once it turned Snake took a single shot and the light fell dark. Glass rained to the asphalt and he heard the guards starting to move. Plissken worked in the opposite direction around the vehicle. Crouching at the front he glanced around the side. All four guards stood twenty paces away, one was on the radio and they all had their backs to him.

A quick glimpse of the empty shack was all the encouragement he needed. Snake was on his feet racing for the opening. Adrenaline pushed him to a feverish pace and within seconds Plissken disappeared in the darkened streets leaving the blackbellies behind to discover he was already gone. 


End file.
